Of all the three-hundred and sixty-five days in a year, why did Granny choose this particular day, my first day at work, to breathe her last? How unpredictable is life? She was hale and hearty till the day before. And then, in a sudden twist of fate, she was gone, leaving us all in shock and disbelief.
“Cardiac arrest,” the doctor pronounced. Granny’s passing was a profound blow. She loved me more than anyone else, and I reciprocated that love with equal fervor.
After applying to numerous job openings, I was over the moon to be accepted by a prestigious bank at the young age of 24. Granny was overwhelmed when I shared the happy news of my job. She had her apprehensions about my punctuality, though. Her brows permanently furrowed in disgust whenever she found me hurrying due to my tardiness.
“The bank starts functioning from 9 a.m., but the staff is expected to take their seats well in advance to cater to the customers on time.” My manager told me, throwing a glance at me similar to what my Granny generally gave me.
I was going to surprise my Granny today by getting ready well before time for my first day at work.
As I was basking in the excitement of this new chapter in my life, Granny’s sudden departure that morning casts a shadow over my joy. ‘I will be late on the first day of my work; it is okay,’ I shrugged, trying to console myself.
It was 7:30 a.m. Relatives and friends arrived, each carrying a wreath, a testament to the many lives Granny had touched with her warmth and kindness.
Only a miracle would transport me to my office on time today.
How could I, Margaret Smith’s only grandson, leave before the Octagenarian’s funeral procession, starting at 8 a.m.?
Juggling my work responsibilities on the first day and honoring Granny’s passing was challenging. But I had to face it. I fumbled restlessly, thinking about my office and the strict manager as everyone began the funeral procession.
“Have you informed your office that you would be late?” Dad mumbled into my ears. I shook my head and said I would leave immediately after the funeral.
When the funeral was over, it was 9:30 a.m. I was about to leave when Uncle Joe, our neighbor, came rushing in.
“Dear Harry,” he said, embracing me. “In her death, your Grandmother has given you a new life, showing how much she loves you.” His outburst took me by surprise. My father and others present were equally confused by Uncle Joe’s words.
We did not know that there had been a blast in the building where I was supposed to start work today. Several people had perished.
The relief and gratitude I felt at that moment were overwhelming, a stark reminder of life’s unpredictable nature and fate’s role in our lives.
Indeed, my Granny had blessed me!
This story was published on Spillwords February 10th 2025 under the title Second Life.